


This is Halloween, Halloween

by 8ami



Series: Garrett & Cal [15]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli, Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I upped the rating for the second chapter, M/M, POV First Person, Pansexual Character, Pansexual!Garrett, Sexual Content, Underage Drinking, Will Add to Randomly, Will Update Tags as I Do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-27 22:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ami/pseuds/8ami
Summary: A series of one-shots surrounding Cal and Garrett that take place around Halloween. Think October.Feel free to leave prompts in the comments. I'm down for all the cliches and troupes.





	1. Tuesday, October 31st

**Author's Note:**

> Minor Edits 2/1/2019

To be honest, I’m a little nervous about what I'm currently wearing. It's a costume and sure - it’s Halloween so it's not like I'll be out of place in the halls. Plus compared to other people's choice of costume, mine is pretty tame. It's just not something I would normally go for and it's completely not for me. I might not care a lot about what people think of me, but I do care a lot about what one particular person thinks of me with that person being Cal Price, my boyfriend - which is still great to think even after a month of being able to say it.

I check my hair one more time, make sure it’s still in place which is a waste of effort on my part due to the amount of gel I used this morning. It's not moving for anything short of an earthquake. I get out of my car, fixing the near white sweater jacket I have on when it bunches at my shoulder, backpack thrown over one shoulder. I keep my pace steady as I pass classmates, about half of which has also dressed up as something school appropriate. 

I had waited in my truck long enough that by the time I hit the entrance of the school, students are just beginning to make their way to their lockers for their morning class. Instead of heading to mine, I make my way into the depths of the school building until I find Cal’s locker on the far side of the school from my own. It's also across from my actual class, but I can't wait until our shared second period to show him.

Cal's putting his theater binder into the locker and trying to pull out what he needs for his first class which if I remember correctly is history. He isn’t dressed up today, but I still remember what he looked like in the costume he wore at the Halloween party one of the guys from the soccer team had thrown this last weekend. I also very distinctly remember taking that costume off of him, and my gut pulls down, flipping my nerves into something more hotly at that memory.

I lean against the locker beside Cal’s as coolly as I can manage. Cal spares me a glance, recognition that it's me standing so close hitting him as the corner of his lips twitch upwards before returning his focus back to his task at hand. Only to do a legitimate double take pausing in his movements to really take me in. I can feel his eyes drop to the floor taking in my black shoes before making his way slowly up my legs in black tight pants and white and red sweater jacket with a large R on my chest over a stretch black t-shirt before jumping over my face to check out my styled hair before dropping down to my gaze.

I wink at him, smirking, feeling fucking great over his reaction - all my nerves gone. It’s even better when his face starts to heat up. “Hey, babe.” I greet and I can see him visible swallow, eyes darting down to my pants again. I hook one of my thumbs into my own belt loop in order to shift the low hanging jacket up to expose more of my hips. He watches me do it before making himself look up at me.

Other than his eyes, Cal still hasn’t moved, so I take a step closer to him, just slightly behind him so that when I push his binder into the locker and take out the one he needs my arms are around his shoulders, my chest pressed along the side of his back. He only turns his head enough to keep me in his field of vision as if looking away would make me disappear.

I press the new binder he needs for history into his chest and he slowly presses his hand to the plastic just below my own hand, before getting his head together to look up at my face over his shoulder. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He asks completely serious.

I laugh and kiss his cheek, “I would never.”

Cal just groans, shuts his locker and turns around in my arms to lean against his now-closed locker creating what I think is unnecessary space between us. I post a hand on the metal of the lockers behind him so that I can lean into his space and I think that my costume has to be fitting right now given how we’re currently standing. He’s literally clutching his binder to his chest as he’s leaned against lockers blocked in by my arm - straight out of one of those old movies he keeps making me watch and that I won't admit I enjoy.

“Happy Halloween by the way,” I add when I realize a couple of heartbeats have passed with both of us having just stared at each with affection and smiles.

“Happy Halloween.” He returns and then adds with another look up and down my form, “I really like your costume.”

I lean in to say, "I know," directly over his lips and I see him shiver. He hugs his binder a little tighter to his chest, and I grin enjoying being able to do this to him. 

"Are you serious right now?" Cal and I both turn our heads sharply to find Ethan standing beside us, one hand up like he's throwing away a thought. I'm honestly surprised none of the girls are with him, but I'm also a little thankful. I can already feel my cheeks heating up at just him calling attention to us in the busy hallway. I can feel my shoulders begin to tighten. It's not like the school doesn't know about Cal and me now and normally I don't mind being the center of attention, but well, it's just I don't need another bad reaction ruining things for me, especially right now when I'm just getting back to good. "Are you seriously dressed up as Danny from Grease for _him_?"

"Uh, yes?" That shouldn't sound like a question as that's exactly what I did, but Ethan makes me question a lot of things I say. I don't even know why, but I think it has to do with the amount of confidence, the amount of sureness he speaks his words with. I'm sure what I'm saying is true, but if Ethan told me I was wrong I seriously might believe just because of the way he talks. I can feel Cal's gaze return to me and I can feel the smile pulling at his lips.

Ethan scoffs at my answer, "ugh, stop. You're too cute."

He's referring to us as a couple. It's not the first time he's addressed us like this. I still don't know how to process it. "Cool?" I hear Cal let out a soft laugh at me, but what am I suppose to say to that? I have yet to find a response that doesn't make Ethan roll his eyes at me or have Cal not smile at me like I'm crashing a bumper car. 

"Yes, cool." Ethan repeats, "unfortunately, I do have to take your Sandy as our class will begin soon." Ethan wraps one his hands around Cal's bicep and pulls him out from under me which is the meanest thing Ethan has done to me to date. Cal doesn't even pause following Ethan's lead. He's the one trying to kill me, not the other way around. Maybe it's just mutual assured destruction? 

"Later Garrett," Cal calls at me over his shoulder. Ethan elbows him and there's laughter in his voice as he corrects himself, "I mean Danny."

I watch them leave my sight, before shutting my eyes and lean into Cal's locker until my forearm and forehead are pressed to the metal that has been warmed by Cal having been pressed against it. I didn't even get a real kiss. I shake my head grinning despite as I force myself away from the now cold locker and towards my own class forgoing a stop at my locker as I already have what I need for English in my backpack. 

I make it just before the bell and I'm so thankful for Bram as he's saved me a seat next to him in the back.

He looks over my attire. "Sockhop?" He questions dressed in normal clothes himself apart from the Ravenclaw scarf and pin he's wearing.

Leah is sitting in front of him with a Slytherin pinon her shirt and fingerless gloves with the Slytherin snake printed on the back of her hands - I'd bet fifty bucks that Spier put them up to this and that if I looked over to him right now he'd be wearing Hufflepuff colors - turns to look at the two of us. "I think it's Grease." Leah corrects looking me over. I confirm her suspicions causing her to shake her head with a small smile and Bram to nod his understanding.

"Cal made you watch that movie didn't he?" She asks and I only grin at her. We've been on better terms since she helped me out with my fight with Bram earlier this month. We've been on better terms since I got her to explain to me what's bothering her about Cal and me. I'm grateful for it and I think she is too.

"More than once," I admit. I'm still confused about the flying car, but Cal likes the movie enough for me to forgo that mystery. Every time we watch it he has new information to share with me about some scene, some trivia about filming, why the songs were written the way they were, or something of his own making regarding metaphors and foreshadowing. I'd watch the movie a hundred times if it meant listening to him talk like that all the time - like he has too much to say for once, all enthusiasm and warm with a light face and bright eyes.

Bram chuckles at her words, raising an eyebrow at me as if to silently laugh at how much I'm caught up on Cal and his wants except he has no place to judge me considering how he's wrapped around Spier's finger. He's just lucky that Spier doesn't know the amount of power he has over Bram, too caught up in Bram, himself, to notice really. I point a finger at him when he opens his mouth, "don't Mr. Ravenclaw." Bram's mouth slams shut, color darkening his already dark cheeks.

We exchange smiles and Leah rolls her eyes at us turning to the front of the room as Mr. Wise starts class ending our conversation for now.


	2. Saturday, October 28th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a Halloween Party!

One second, I’m talking to Claire about a new set of sketching pencils she got that she wants me to try out - her sketching involves architectural designs, aesthetically pleasing work where mine tends to be brought on by story elements - and the next second my vision is completely made up of Garrett Laughlin, my boyfriend. My apparently very drunk boyfriend. He falls over the arm of the love seat I’m sitting on so that he ends up across my lap haphazardly and loose, long legs left hanging over the arm of the seat.

It’s nice to see him relaxed. This month has been hard on him and the last time he drank had not been a good time for anyone involved. I’ve been worried about him and I was worried about him drinking tonight, unsure in what direction his drunken mind would take him.

I find it easy to smile at Garrett, both because of the alcohol in my own system and because it’s Garrett, “you do realize I’m talking to Claire, yes?” I’m curious as he’s certainly drunk enough to genuinely not have noticed.

“Yes!” He tells me proudly, causing me to roll my eyes. I’m about to ask him what he’s doing then when he continues with an attempt of seriousness that he can’t pull off right now, “I want attention. It’s my turn for attention now. Your attention. I want your attention.” He twists about, waving a hand, to face Claire, “My turn for attention.”

Claire just laughs and Garrett turns back to face me, not registering any response from her. I catch a glimpse of Claire getting to her feet past Garrett, her blue and pink Sleeping Beauty dress swishing at the motion. Dress is a generous term though as it’s more of a short skirt with a corset top tied together with ribbon to symbolize the moment when the fairy godmothers are creating and fighting over Aurora’s dress in the movie. Brianna’s friend Sasha, who's also in theater, helped with the design and I do think it’s a clever touch even if most people won’t catch it. Especially, drunk teenagers at a Halloween party.

“Alright then, Garrett, you can have him.” She allows with a warm smile. When she catches my gaze she makes a heart with her hands over her chest. I smile at her, nod my head in acknowledgment, thankful for her understanding as she leaves me with Garrett on the love seat.

I’m apparently not giving Garrett the attention he wants because he’s now tugging at the blue vest I’m wearing as part of my costume to get me to look at him.

My friends and I had decided to all go as Disney characters this year. Ethan and the girls went with more sexualized versions of iconic characters, but I’ve always been a little more reserved in my clothing choices, not nearly as confident in my appearance as they are about their own. However, between Ethan’s pleas, Claire’s puppy dog eyes, and Taylor’s encouragement I compromised by dressing as Aladdin in his streetrat attire which leaves my chest and arms vastly uncovered.

Garrett tugs harder at my vest, one hand on each side, causing the back of the neckline to bite into my neck. I think about playing like I’m ignoring him, but I’m giving in to his request before I can really think through the idea. “Hello, Garrett.”

He beams when I look at him, the low light of the party making his smile somehow brighter, “Hi.”

I give a small, but fond laugh, “And why did you need my attention?”

“Because I like you.” He answers around a lovely, tilted smile that’s very warm and makes my heart swell, my cheeks heat up. I bring up one of my hands to trace my fingers down the side of his face, soft and affectionate. He lets out an appreciate hum at the motion. I was expecting a silly answer, something brought on by drunken thoughts and party antics. Garrett has a tendency to surprise me with soft gestures like this though. I have yet to get used to them.

“I like you too,” I confess just above a whisper, my breath already taken.

Garrett lets go of my vest and takes my wrists in both hands, bringing them together in an attempt to make me applaud. I can’t stop smiling. “Yay.” He tumbles into laughter at his own actions that overtake his entire body and he’s left-leaning on me more than not. “That’s why we’re dating.” He giggles through the words.

It’s not a question, just the next logical step in Garrett’s messy head at the moment, only able to solidify the connecting dots by speaking them aloud, but I answer anyway. “Yes, that’s why we’re dating.” Which is an amazing thing to be able to say.

The laughter trails off as his hands go back to holding onto my vest I think mostly because there isn’t anything else for him to hold onto. His head rests on my shoulder turned so that I can feel his breath just above my exposed collarbone leaving my skin tingling. He’s very warm and his weight against me is grounding. I snake one of my arms out from between us to around his back. I let my other hand settle on his far hip, resting my arm across his thighs as I kiss the top of his head content to stay like this for as long as he wants.

I can feel my smile soften around its edges; using my nose to brush gently through his hair, strands ghosting my lips, letting something warm and nice and all sorts of wonderful settle in me at getting his attention like this, freely and openly. It’s a party and he’s drunk and I’ve been drinking and the music is loud and the costumes are distracting, but it’s still open and it’s still nice.

He’s been tense and more careful about what he does, what we do in public since coming out to his parents at the beginning of this month. Thankfully, he hasn’t pushed me away too much; I had been terrified of that given what happened, what followed. I still have had to be careful with him, give him space on occasion despite wanting to be by his side all the time.

He’s been doing better and it’s gotten better, especially since he and Bram made up after their fight. A fight that lasted longer than I thought it would. I’m not sure what was killing Garrett more over the last few weeks - the fight with his parents or the fight with Bram. But they’re good now. Any doubt I had about that evaporated when they agreed to be partners for the beer pong tournament a few of the soccer players set up earlier tonight.

Which is one reason, both teens are so drunk at the moment. I wonder if Simon is currently having to deal with a drunk boyfriend as well.

“Cal, Cal, Cal.” Garrett breaks my thoughts. His hair swipes across my face as he lifts his head to look at my eyes leaving his lips close but not close enough to mine. I note that he looks less giddy than he did before he settled against me, focused now but still slurred in posture.

“Yes?”

“Your costume.” He tells me like that’s enough for me to follow the conversation. I’m normally pretty good at figuring out what’s going on in Garrett’s head, it helps that he's talkative though and tends to wear his heart on his sleeve, it also helps to not have a wave of self-awareness hit me with his words.

I glance down at my attire, “What’s wrong with my costume?” I ask genuinely curious, left wishing I had at least brought a jacket to the party.

Garrett frowns hard and shakes his head as he tries to sit up straighter. He ends up having to readjust completely, knocking me in the stomach once with his knee that has me groaning, until he’s settled on his knees, sideways, on the seat beside me, hands on my shoulders trying to square our chests. It’s awkward, and I’m completely amused, pain subsiding quickly, as I try to follow what’s happening. He apparently isn’t satisfied as his frown deepens making lines about his eyes, and he decides a second later that this still isn’t what he wants and just ends up straddling my lap so that he can face me straight on.

There isn’t more to the position than him wanting to face me, it feels light on his part, out of convenience almost, and yet I’m pretty sure he just stole a moment of my life that I’m not getting back, nor want back if this is the exchange. My hands find his hips heavily.

Garrett’s bigger than me and as such I’m normally the one sitting in his lap like this. To be on the other side… well, it’s a wonderful place to be, because even if he’s an absolute mess right now, he’s a very gorgeous mess. If he sinks any lower into my lap, I’ll probably forget about anything other than him. At just the thought, I have to bite my lips as he attempts for seriousness again.

“What’s wrong with your costume?” He repeats like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “It’s not wrong. It’s distracting.” Garrett corrects, hands leaving my vest to trail over my shoulders, and then down my arms slow like Garrett is memorizing the feel of them, his eyes darkening as he follows the movement of his hands on my skin.

“Oh.” Is all I can really manage suddenly feeling like I’m as drunk as he is with my head getting fuzzy, chest heavy with something hot pulling down into my stomach.

“It’s been distracting all night. You look sooo good.” His voice dips deeper as he drops his hips down on to mine. My sudden moan is cut off by his lips connecting with mine eagerly. One of his hands finds a new home on the back of my head, nails along my scalp as he keeps me securely against his lips.

It’s not a very slow kiss, nor deep one, but rather a series of parted lips pressing together, massaging in motion before pulling back just enough to find a smile before diving back in. It’s wonderfully sweet considering the situation, considering how much more it could so easily be considering the state we’re both in. But it’s also so completely Garrett that I can’t imagine it being anything else.

It almost makes me want to push for more, to pull his hips down into mine, to push mine up into his, to show him how much I appreciate everything about him since I can’t find the words. But I don’t because I haven’t quite forgotten that we’re in public. I don’t want to push for something that in our right minds Garrett might not be okay with. So, instead I savory the kisses he does give me, the feel of his lips, chapped and tasting a little harsh from being washed with vodka - Garrett’s alcohol of choice - but still lovely and heavy and sure. I let one of my hands move from his hip, slipping under his shirt hem, up his side, so that I can have his flushed skin at my fingertips.

“Stop making outwith your boyfriend in public.” Someone orders, hitting Garrett in the back of the head with some prop from their costume. The interruption has the kiss breaking with a groan coming from Garrett’s throat. My cheeks heat up both at the sound and at being chided for kissing Garrett which I tell myself I shouldn’t feel bad about; I still drop my head to let my bangs shield my eyes. With a hand rubbing at the back of his skull, Garrett climbs off my lap, settling beside me as close as he can.

Nick in his effortless soccer player costume for the second year in a row is taking a seat on the couch where Claire had been moments ago. He gives Bram the Jedi back the lightsaber he had used on Garrett as Bram too sits down on the couch. Well, falls, but still.

Garrett looks between the other two soccer players, eyes squinting at them as he works through whatever it is in his head, catching up to the moment no doubt. And then he turns to me, with a second of pause in which I don’t know what is happening because I’m not looking up before he puts his forefinger under my chin in order to guide my face up so that I’m looking up at him instead of down into my lap. “We should go make out with each other in private.”

He’s serious, but it has me laughing with disbelief, washing out my embarrassment. “Your friends just came over here to talk to you.”

“Both of you.” Bram corrects, but I don't get any time to think on that as Garrett responds at the same time.

“That one hit me,” Garrett argues, throwing a hand at Nick, without looking away from me.

“You needed it.” Nick defends in protest.

The words have Garrett turning to look at Nick, but he forgets to move his hand from under my chin. I lean on to it slightly, relishing in the pressure as I regard the profile of Garrett’s face.

“I did not need to be hit.” Garrett has pretty long lashes, a detail that can be easily lost due to the light coloring of them. But thanks to the lighting right now there’s a halo around the ends, spotlighting them.

“You were heavily making out with your boyfriend in public.” Garrett’s eyes frown, wrinkles just at the corner. There’s a glossiness to his eyes, more present now that his eyes aren’t so dark, pupils aren’t so big.  

“We’re at a party.” There’s a flush to Garrett’s face from drinking, but there’s a nicer shade along his cheeks right now. Maybe from embarrassment over Nick’s words or maybe from kissing me?

“No excuse - no one really wants to see other people make out, Laughlin.” Garrett clicks his tongue dismissively with a shake of his head, his thumb absentmindedly running along the edge of my jaw. I let my eyes close momentarily, falling into the soothing motion.

“Not true.”

“Really and why is that?” Nick challenges with a laugh.

“Because I’m hot.” Garrett grins like Nick had walked into a setup. Garrett breaks my profile view of him to look at me fully and his grin turns a little heated with the words being spoken for me rather than the other two, “Because Cal’s hot.”

Before Nick can retort or Garrett can continue, Bram waves his lightsaber between the two of them until they both leave the topic behind them with smiles and fake anger. Nick falls back into the couch with an overdone wave of his hands where Garrett just presses a kiss to my lips before letting go my chin to wrap his arm around my shoulders.

If I thought Garrett couldn’t get anymore distracting, I’m proven wrong when his fingers start to lightly tap and skim against the skin of my shoulder, dipping under the material of my vest every now and then. I, not so suddenly, want to take Garrett up on his offer to find somewhere private, especially with his fingers sending shocks of desire down through my body.

I take a deep, shaky breath to compose myself.

Nick and Bram came over to talk to us, it would be rude to escape with Garrett right now. I probably shouldn’t think of it as escaping.

“Enjoying the party?” Bram asks with this smile that’s as tilted as his voice, I catch his eyes and for a minute I think Bram has to know what I’m thinking about his best friend. I can feel my cheeks burn and my mouth run dry at just the thought.

“I was until you two came over here,” Garrett replies instantly with a laugh at his own words. Bram looks away from me as he attempts to poorly use the lightsaber to poke at Garrett, but it’s batted away with a challenge.

I roll my eyes at them trying to will the tightening in my stomach to loosen, and nod at Bram’s question. “Yeah, I am. How’s y’alls night going?” I ask, aware of the heaviness of my drawl in the words. Garrett also picks up on it if the look he suddenly casts at me means anything.

“Great! Angela Hardy gave me her number.” Nick answers eager to share his victory. He triumphantly holds up his forearm where a number is written in marker, “And Simon and I got Leah to do karaoke with us.” Which is actually triumphant, I think. Red hadn’t acted like she had wanted to come to the party, I know it’s not really where Leah feels the most comfortable, but she had been adamant about attending with everyone.

“What did y’all sing?”

Nick answers with a song I don’t recognize, but I’d probably know if I heard the lyrics or was a little less drunk. I kinda want another drink though, to loosen up, to catch up with Garrett, but I don’t get up to get one, too content with Garrett besides me right now.

I continue the conversation with Nick, asking about the performance and where the other two friends are which is when Bram jumps in as he explains they’re trying to find Abby and the conversation rolls to different things about the party. Garrett has apparently decided the conversation isn’t interesting enough for his attention as he has his head turned the entire time to look at me.

Every now and then, he’ll lean over to kiss the side of my head or duck down to kiss my cheek. Other times the hand he has around my shoulders will trace up my arm and shoulder, along the skin of my neck, and weave through my hair before retreating back down the same path. At one point he gets brave and moves his far hand across his lap to rest on my hip closest to him, just keeping pressure there to make sure I’m aware of it. And I am aware of it, aware of him on every level. I have to swallow hard and duck my head beneath my bangs to hide my face when he leans down to kiss me just above my ear, breath warm as he says whispers, “I just want to touch you so bad.” It goes straight to my want of him. I put a hand on his knee and squeeze, hard, eyes shut, in order to get my breathing back into an even pattern. Which is made harder when he laughs soft and heavy in my ear at my reaction.

When I get myself together enough, I look back across the space to the couch where Nick is looking anywhere but at me and Bram is shaking his head in amusement, cheeks a little dark.

“I think I’m going to go find Angela,” Nick says suddenly, well maybe it’s not so suddenly given the conversation and Garrett’s apparent inability to keep his hands to himself. I give him an apologetic, but not completely sorry, smile which he just waves at before ducking back into the crowd of the party. He’s never been one for public affection, I’ve noticed, more so when it’s one of his friends involved. At least, it’s not just because Garrett and I are both guys. A person can support us and still be uncomfortable with actually seeing evidence of there being an ‘us’ after all. Both of us, Garrett especially right now, has enough to do deal with, there’s no need to add anything else to that list.

Garrett actually stops looking at me long enough to see Nick depart and then turns to look with a question on his face to Bram and it throws me a little that in his drunken state Garrett looks to Bram for answers before me even if I understand it.

Bram shrugs, waving the lightsaber in thought, “I think you made him uncomfortable.”

“Huh?” Garrett asks not following with a tilt in his head that’s more adorable than it should be.

“You can’t stop touching Cal,” Bram answers with a very sweet smile that reminds me that the two are back on good terms and has me feeling happy for the two soccer players regardless of anything else in my head.

Garrett pauses and looks at me as if to confirm what Bram’s saying. It has a smile tugging on my lips and I nod an affirmative. Even now, Garrett hasn’t removed his hands from me, not that I want him too. It takes a few more seconds for Garrett to really process the information. “He’s pretty - you’re pretty and hot and I like touching your skin and it’s easy with this costume and Aladdin’s always been my favorite Disney movie.” He answers Bram and then rambles an answer to me in the same breath.

It’s nice to hear that he likes me physically and to receive compliments, but it always leaves me with a second of doubt, with a second of wondering if it’s true, if he means it, if I deserve it. It leaves me feeling warm and surprised and a little uncomfortable. I think he figured that out, I think it’s why he gives me so many kind words. It’s his attempt to make me believe them, because I know he wouldn’t say them if _he_ didn’t believe them.

Bram laughs that’s more of a giggle while my cheeks heat up. “I always liked Lion King more.”

“That’s a classic.” Garrett agrees, moving the hand from my hip to brush through my bangs. It’s only then that I notice I’ve hidden behind them again at the compliment. I force myself to look up when Garrett asks, “what’s your favorite Disney movie, Cal?”

“The older ones - Robin Hood with the foxes,” I answer with little thought. Since we decided on what we were doing for Halloween, Disney movies have been the top topic among my friends.

Garrett squeezes my shoulder a little, tugging me a millimeter closer, “Oh, yea! That’s a good one. Nicole says I made her watch that one a lot. That one and Mulan. I remember Aladdin.”

“Tarzan for me. Tarzan and Lion King.” A second of thought before Bram adds, “Emperor's’ New Groove always made me laugh.” Which is quickly followed up by the two boys yelling, “Pull the Lever Kronk! Wrong Lever Kronk,” which leaves them both in giggles and the focus of several of the passing partygoers.

“You can’t go wrong with Toy Story.” I pitch when the laughter dies down, and Bram quickly agrees.

“Si likes that one - we watched all of them recently...I don’t know when, but we did. He also likes An American Tale...or is it tail as in mouse tail?” Bram asks a puzzling expressing coming over his features, staring off a little in thought as he tries to remember the movie through his hazy mind.

Bram’s usually pretty quiet in general, more so when there’s a lot of people around. I’ve talked to him more since Garrett and him had their fight than I had all of our high school career. Both of us seeking the other one out at least twice to try and remedy the situation. I think now that the situation is better, I need to try and have more conversations with him, get to know him better since he’s Garrett’s best friend.  

I worry if that might be weird, crossing a line in the next second, as if maybe I was just trying to get to him in the first place or if it would make it obvious how much I want to stay part of Garrett’s life. The train of thought is a bit muddled to follow and the ones that follow are born from the same pit of worry and fear but come up just as jumbled as if I had put them together in the dark. It makes it easy for me to toss the frown that’s trying to make its way onto my lips and throw away the thoughts for later, instead focusing on the warmth of Garrett’s body pressed to my side and the conversation again.

“Tail as in mouse. It’s a play on words.” I answer when the two friends are still trying to figure it out. Garrett beams down at me, getting the last of my worrying thoughts to evaporate overtaken with how good he looks happy. “Taylor has always liked the Aristocats and Anastasia.”

“Why does that make sense?” Garrett asks with an over exaggeration and offers up, “I’ve never seen Bambi or Fox and the Hound.”

I immediately nod. “I can see that.” He looks offended apparently having been trying for shock, perhaps, and I laugh as I explain, “Garrett, you won’t watch Marley and Me or John Wick because the dog dies. And then you cried when we watched Bolt.” Bram breaks into a round of giggles.

“Why does the dog have to die?” Garrett immediately replies sounding suddenly heartbroken at just the idea with shoulders dropped, and I instantly feel bad for bringing up the movies while we're drunk. “Bolt thought Penny didn’t miss him and she missed him a lot.” He goes on, words past his lips quickly, kind of sounding like he wants to cry; his voice getting defensive and wet. I cup his face with one of my hands.

“You’re wonderful, you know that?”

He’s not off the dog thing though, “dogs are wonderful.” Bram’s giggles turn into a full laugh as my affection for my boyfriend deepens. I can’t help but lean in and kiss Garrett chastely on the lips, something sweet like him. He has a smile on his lips when I pull away. “You’re wonderful too.” I kiss him again to make sure he’s good and because I like kissing him and I’m allowed to do that.

Abby, Simon, and Leah crash into the conversation just as my lips leave Garrett’s, with Simon throwing his arms around Bram’s shoulders, cheeks flushed from his own drinks. Abby’s holding her liquor best out of us tonight it seems as she stands straight beside Leah at the end of the love seat.

“You boys can’t hang out on the couch all night. Come dance!” Abby encourages and Simon is already using pleading eyes on Bram which has the soccer player getting to his feet without protest. Abby swats at Garrett’s shoulder until we both get up as well; Garrett lets the arm he has around my shoulder slide down my back, down the bones of my spine and around in order to take up my hand that’s in between us. I squeeze his hand back when he does it first as if to check if I actually want to go dance. I just want to go where he’s going. All of us follow Abby back to the area of the house everyone has decided is for dancing with little resistance to the request of dancing.

I lose sight of the others in the crowd the moment we really hit the dance floor. I blame Garrett as he uses my hand to turn me in a circle, pulling me close to him once again, moving our hips to the fast beat of music without a second of thought towards his friends. Not that I'm thinking much of anyone but Garrett, myself.

I don’t even know if there are lyrics to the song that’s playing as all I can hear is my heart beating as loud as the bass drums. My back is pressed to Garrett's chest, his other hand finding my hip pulling me flush against him from shoulders to hip. It’s impossible not to notice that he’s half hard and I kinda wish it was easier to hide that I’m there as well in these pants.

Garrett dips his head, brushes his lips along my neck leaving the sensation of kissing without actually pressing his lips to my skin. Really, I’ve never been good at not wanting him and I’ve been drinking, making it even harder to deny. I immediately turn my head, nudge him with my nose until he straightens enough for me to capture his lips in desperation. I tangle one of my hands in his hair, straining my neck a little, keeping him close enough to deepen the kiss, swiping my tongue across his already parting lips.

I don’t know how, but I hear him moan past the music, can feel the vibrations on my tongue. My chest heaves as I go breathless continuing to kiss him. His hand on my hip tightens until it feels like it might leave a bruise. I want it to leave a bruise. I want to be reminded of this when he’s not around.

It really is just too much, and I have to turn in his arms, get a better grip in his hair and pull him down into a kiss that has me forgetting where we are. His hands travel up and down the exposed skin of my back. His palm pressing along my rib cage, fingers dipping into the gaps between the bones. I pull back from the kiss that’s turned sloppy and messy long enough to register that we’ve dropped the pretense of dancing all together to make out in a wave of people. That thought falls beneath the surface of my mind when I lean in to kiss the side of his mouth, his chin, and start trailing kisses down his neck where I can feel him swallow against my lips.

Garrett apparently figures out where this could easily go if we were in a place just a little more private and breaks away from me, hand going to tangle in mine in order to pull me off the dance floor after not even one full song of dancing. Down a hall and two doors down, Garrett’s pulling me into a room that is most certainly the laundry room before slamming the door shut by pressing me up against it.

I’m immediately pulling him closer, fingers digging into the cloth of his shirt as our lips collide together again. A hand on my ass has me widening my stance allowing him to press one of his legs in between mine. Garrett’s hardening against my hip bone as I rock my hips against him, blood pooling south beneath my stomach. When he moans at the action, I swallow the sound down hungrily.

It’s only when my chest is long empty and I remember that I have to breathe that our lips finally break apart, but neither one of us makes to put any distance between us. Leaving us with lips brushing, breath tangling as we catch each other’s gaze. His eyes are laden and dark and there’s something deep beneath the surface that I know he can’t possibly know about, that I think I just have to be seeing, a trick of the light.

Garrett smiles, pressing his lips to mine, mouth open but without pressure in something softer than I’m expecting given that our current situation had been brought on by quick-set need. It leaves my lips tingling and I shiver in his hands, slowing down to savor him.

“I like having your attention,” Garrett says breaking the heavy silence that's made up of our breathing, our hearts, and the distant sounds of a party on the other side of the door that had begun to settle around us.

It makes me laugh on strangled air. _He_ makes me laugh, more than anyone I’ve ever met. “I like giving you my attention.” I kiss him solidly to prove my point when Garrett falls easily into the kiss my heart skips a beat.

He swipes his tongue across my lips, and I part them for him, slowly deepening the kiss, slowing both of us down into this moment, just this moment. Hands on shoulders, soaking in the skin under palms until I lower mine to the hem of his shirt and tug. Garrett hums his approval giving me just enough space so that I can push his shirt up his body revealing his delicious abs and ridiculously toned chest. Garrett slides his arms out of the sleeves when I reach his shoulder blades, but he refuses to break the kiss for me to actually pull his shirt completely off, leaving it looped around his neck.

Tongues tangle, twisting and unwinding as Garrett presses into me so that our chests touch, skin against skin, rocking his hips into mine as slow as his exploring tongue. I can feel his heart beating against his chest, against mine, his want as clear as mine.

He pulls away, both of our lips still wet, smirks at me as he takes his hands off of me to finally remove his shirt completely. It causes him to put space between us and I definitely whine at the loss of warmth, “I also like giving you my attention.” Garrett’s voice drops from warm to deep, letting his hands find the skin again on my sides.

His hands roam up my chest and to my shoulders, pushing my vest off. I drop my arms to let the fabric fall to the ground as his hands move back down my skin until they trace the edge of my pants. Garrett had been following his hands with his eyes, but he looks up at me through those blond lashes I was admiring earlier watching my face when his hands move across the fabric of my pants. My breath hitches when he lowers his hands and his body until he’s on his knees and his hands are on mine.

There aren’t a lot of things that look better than Garrett Laughlin on his knees.

I lean hard against the door, my hands pressed flat against the wood in an attempt to keep myself aware of reality, so not to lose myself in my dizzying thoughts involving Garrett. Of this situation, of similar situations, we’ve been in, of the drink in our systems, of how I feel anything but drunk.

His fingers dig into the fabric about my knees as he leans in pressing his nose to the crease where hip meets thigh. Rolling his head, he ends up pressing his cheek against my dick which twitches in reaction and causes me to shut my eyes instead of watching him.

Which might not have been the best idea, because I’m completely caught off guard when he nuzzles closer and I can feel his lips, his hot breath through the material of my pants, my hips coming off the door for a moment. He mouths down my length without ever actually putting any pressure or making full contact getting my harder before moving back leaving me groaning.

Garrett just chuckles hands moving to the top of my pants. Finally, he tugs at the hem and I look down at him through low lashes before nodding my agreement. Which, thankfully, is all he needs in order to pull my pants down my thighs, letting them fall down to my ankles.

Ethan, loving both fashion and history, had at one point during the last week informed me that these pants were called harem pants, along with several other names modeled after the Turkish trouser. Which, he then followed up with how easily they can be slipped on and off. I had rolled my eyes at the jest, but right now I’m so glad there aren’t any belts or laces involved.

Garrett kisses just above my knee on the inside of my thigh and pretty much any thought that doesn’t involve him evaporates. He starts to kiss up my thigh, letting a hand slide up my other leg, hand pressed hard and firm making a stark contrast to the light, teasing kisses.

I bite my lip with a hard breath that’s somewhere between a moan and a whine that has Garrett leaning back so that he looks up at me with a smirk, “I love the sounds you make.”

My boxers follow my pants to the floor; a hiss of intake of air as the cold air hits my newly exposed skin, but before I can even think about just how naked I am, Garrett add, “I wonder what other sounds I can get you to make.” I definitely groan at that, tongue loose due to the alcohol of the evening and he laughs triumphantly.

“While I like listening to you talk…” I start, voice wobbly as I catch his gaze, eyes dilating further, lips wet, cheeks flushed. I have to shut my eyes to compose myself enough to finish. “While I like listening to you talk, isn’t there something else you could be doing with your mouth.”

“Fuck, Cal.” I hear Garrett breathe, lips parting just slightly

I had figured out before we were official, quickly during the summer, that being a bit bossy, demanding in these situations is something Garrett really likes from me. It always gets a reaction from him, a good one. Sometimes, it isn’t easy for me to do things of that nature, especially, when I forget I’m with Garrett now and that this isn’t my previous relationship, where that guy had only wanted me submissive.

I don’t necessarily lack confidence, or maybe I do, I’m not sure, but I do know that being with Garrett since April, even when we were just messing around while I was trying not to have feelings for him, has given me assurances regarding myself that I had been lacking, that I didn’t notice I had been lacking. He prompts me to make decisions, listens to my words and watches for what I do. Just the thought of it causes a surge of affection in me, a sense of safety and calm to swell and bury into my bones.

Garrett starts to kiss my hip bone drawing my eyes down to him. When he registers he truly has my attention, he starts to kiss down towards my crotch only to lick his way back up to my waistline when he starts to get too close. He does it a second time and then a third pulling a whine from my throat and a jerk of my hips, apparently, intent to actually see what sounds he can get me to make.

The fact that, even now, he’s keeping to what he says is probably the hottest thing that’s ever crossed my mind. I feel way less drunk and really turned on, in need of him in ways I wasn’t expecting tonight. I hope he’s in the same boat if for no other reason, but so that he continues to be in arms reach of me. Which I immediately recognize as being an extremely selfish thought, one that leaves behind a sense of doubt and tingling guilt, and has me reaching down with on my hands.

I slide my hand under his chin like he had done earlier to me, lifting his face so that I can look at him in the eyes. “Hey, you’re good right?” I can hear my voice shaking as I try to keep control of my emotions long enough to make sure he’s really okay, okay enough in his head for this.

Garrett arches an eyebrow up at me, tilting his head in my hand. Slowly, he gets to his feet, hands trailing up my sides and then my chest again as if he simply can’t be without touching me until he’s cupping my face. I let my hand fall, staring up at him looking for any sort of hidden answer. “With you?” He’s smiling way too sober and way too real considering we’re standing in a classmate’s laundry room at a Halloween party. He wraps one of his hands in mine, bringing it up to hold it in between our chests over our sternums. I look down to see our fingers intertwined, wrists twisted like they’re holding champagne glasses for celebration. “I’m great.”

I snap my head up, sucking in a breath in surprise, catching his gaze. There’s a bit of gloss to his eyes that makes it look like lights twinkling in his dilated pupils and I have to kiss him, leaving my concern behind to give him the last pieces of my heart that he didn’t already have.

“Always great.” The words slip past his lips, over my own and down into my chest. Another press of lips, a kiss to the side of my mouth, as his hands leave me only long enough to wrap around my waist, pulling me off the door and flush against him until our slow kisses pick up in pace, in need, in desperation, and quickly, the rocking of our hips simply isn’t enough for either one of us.

Garrett’s back on his knees before I can even think of something else, much less suggest anything else, apparently taken up with the idea of getting me off this way. Which is not something I’m going to complain about. Especially, right now when I can’t think of anything but my want and my heart regarding him.

Garrett wraps one of his hand around the base of my dick and my head goes blank immediately for all of the second it takes him to guide my dick into his mouth. Licking his lips beforehand, Garrett stretches his lips around the head of my dick, pressing his tongue to the tip that’s already leaking precum, drawing me into a moan, my stomach muscles contracting in my effort to keep my hips still.

While Garrett lacks technique, seeing as he’s only given a handful of blowjobs and none before me, there’s certainly nothing bad about what he does. Previously, he’s had me talk to him through it, through what I like, has been hesitant about his ability, and experimented a bit when he was particularly brave. Right now, he seems to be particularly confident, drawing more and more of my cock into his hot mouth until his lips bump his own hand still wrapped around the base of my length, both providing wonderful pressure and putting a strain on the tightening of my insides.

Garrett loosens his fingers, sliding them some as he starts to bob his head, sucking and licking with hollowing cheeks as he does so. I’m breathing hard when I manage to get my eyes open again, reaching out for his free hand, tightly lacing our fingers together. A look down confirms that yes, Garrett is still fucking gorgeous as he keeps his eyes and focus low. It hits me that I’m the only person that has seen Garrett like this. On his knees, taking me in by his mouth, hard himself. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, leaves my legs trembling as my balls begin to tighten.

Garrett moves his hand from my cock, blood rushing into the open veins, making me impossibly hard and pink, on the edge of coming, to wrap his hand around my hip, fingers digging into skin hardly noticeable with all my senses taken up elsewhere.

“Shit, Garrett, I’m so close already,” I trail off trying to pull my hips back, but I’m stopped by the door. I push weakly at him with my free hand as I have yet to untangle our hands, but he tugs my hips forward with the hand he has there, my dick hitting the back of his throat causing me to stutter out his name in pleasure as I get the memo.

“Yeah?” I ask panting as I wait for an answer, needing to be sure.

Garrett looks up at me, catching my eyes with his mouth still around me and then winks at me in response, and I don’t think I’ve wanted anyone more than I want him right now. Or is it need? I don’t know and I don’t have time to figure it out when he picks up the pace of taking me in and out of his mouth, applying pressure with his tongue along the bottom of my shaft, pulling at my hips to remind me that he’s okay with me moving them. And I do, I start to rock into him, letting him take as much as he can of me in, until I’m falling right over the edge.

I moan out his name as my toes curls, my head thrown back against the door with a shuddering breath around my jerking hips. Garrett swallows a mouthful of cum, before letting my dick out of his mouth. The cold air hits it hard after being inside Garrett’s hot mouth getting me to gasp that falls into a groan as Garrett uses his hand to finish me completely through my orgasm.

Garrett doesn’t stand just readjusts so that he’s cross-legged, hand palming at his own hard cock beneath his jeans, as I lean hard against the door, my thighs shaking. “So… how’d I do?” Garrett asks with a smile that says he knows exactly what I thought of this which I hope is actually true because words are impossible for me right now. I let my knees buckle, sliding down the door and into Garrett’s lap.

I throw myself into a kiss in answer that has both of us tipping backward onto the floor tasting myself on his tongue when I slip mine past his lips. I hum my approval into the kiss, Garrett bucks his hips up into me, pressing himself up against my thigh reminding me of the jeans he’s wearing.

His hands find purchase in my hair and around my shoulder as I curve my waist and hips back enough, pushing myself up to my knees slightly, in order to reach down in between us to undo the belt, button, and zipper of his jeans. Garrett lifts his hips off the ground so that I can pull his jeans and boxers down to his thighs in one go. His cock, already leaking, slaps against his stomach as soon as it’s free from its confines already so close.

I kiss the side of his mouth, his cheeks, his lips again pressing my hips down into his. He gasps, bucking up at the pressure to be rewarded with the friction that he desperately wants. I start to rock my hips down careful of my own oversensitive dick, giving him something to push his erection back against. Nails dig into the skin at the base of my neck with nothings slipping past his lips, spurring me into reaching down between our bodies to wrap my hand around his aching cock.

I squeeze giving him more pressure, raising up to give him enough space to fuck up into my hand. I roll my hand at the same time, twisting around his length until his back is arching, losing the ability to form a proper sentence and cum spills from him coating our bare stomachs.

He pulls my hand off him when he starts to become sensitive and then drags me up into a peppering of kissing that I don’t understand how he has the energy for but leaves me smiling and wriggling from his hold that only leaves me as much over him as off. Which is fine as I don’t really want to be all that far from him.

I want to hold him until our breathing evens out and to where I can listen to our hearts slowing beat back to normal. I want to kiss him until he knows every single one of my unspoken feelings towards him. I want to touch him until he’s hard and wanting again and I’m able to take care of him.

Instead, we settle just long enough for aches to settle into our joints when we realize we’re in some random classmates laundry room which has Garrett laughing and I can’t stop smiling at him as we clean ourselves up. My attire is easily sorted, and I lean back against the door, enjoying the view of Garrett get dressed even if I would prefer to watch him undress. He must feel me looking because he looks up to catch my gaze with a wide, almost innocent smile, wiggling an eyebrow at me that has me coming over to him so that I can put my arms around his shoulder and kiss his cheek.

“For the record, I enjoy getting your attention too,” I tell him and he grins with pleasure as he pulls me tight into a hug, our spent bodies pressed flushed again.

“If you ever want my attention, all you have to do his wear this again.”

“Aladdin?” I ask not moving away from him, but leaning my head back with an arched eyebrow so that I can see his face.

“Well, anything with this much fabric anyways.” He amends with a new dusting of pink adding to his flushed face, which is entirely adorable and overwhelming for my fried nerves. He has my nerves jumping with excitement.

I kiss him quick, “are you trying to tell me that if I want your attention I should just take off my clothes?”

“That would not hurt your chances.” Garrett teases with his cheeks darkening, pulling me into him and off the ground playfully, stumbling a little to remind me that we’re at a party. With my feet back on the ground, he adds sweetly, “Or you can just ask for it. That would work too.” I don’t fight the smile that deepens on my face as I stare up at him, arms around each other in something that feels like everything that’s right.

I add this moment to the list of reason why I waited on Garrett, and with one more simple press of lips that never feels simple with him, we rejoin the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yall asked and I had already planned to write this so here it is! I'm not quite confident in my ability to write smutty things but practice makes perfect, yeah, lol. So enjoy these two.


End file.
